Search

As today I decided that I was too beat to actually work on my novel draft, I decided instead to fill in my lovely readers on my fourth of July adventures and misadventures.

Living in Boston makes the fourth of July a holiday of madness–but the good kind. Fireworks,food, tourists and all sorts of fun seems to burst forth from our fair city. But when rain threatens a good time here in Boston, a need for alternate plans arise.

For my boyfriend and I, out alternate plan became a trip to the movies: The Amazing Spiderman.

Now, many people seem to think that this movie is trying to be a continuation of the previous Spiderman movies involving Tobey Mcguire and the storyline with the Maryjane (Kerstin Dunst) love interest. But this is a reboot people. Not only is the storyline different, the leading lady is too. This is Spiderman done better–and thank god for that because the world does not need another Tobey Mcguire style Spiderman.

In this version of our favorite web-slinging hero, Peter Parker is introduced at first to the audience as a child in his parents house. His loving, affectionate parents are playing hide-and-seek with the young Peter, when they discover their house has been broken into. Peter’s father, in a panic, begins unearthing hidden documents in the house, stuffing them in a bag and the whole family up and leaves in the middle of a rainstorm. They arrive, rather wet for the wear, at Aunt May and Uncle Ben’s house, where Peter’s parents say their goodbyes to him and tell him to be good. They never explain to Peter where or why they are going, but the way in which the film is shot, it seems his parents explain some unknown plight to his Aunt and Uncle before they leave him there. It is a tearful goodbye. We later discover they have died in a planecrash. (Familiar? Yes, but more personal this time.)

Flash forward to Peter in high school. He is bullied, but not the primary focus of the bullies until he sticks up for another kid getting his face stuffed in pizza. A beautiful blonde, Gwen Staci steps in when Peter is getting his head kicked in, this starts Peter’s crush on her. When Peter returns home later, it seems his Aunt and Uncle’s basement has flooded, and while helping his Uncle save things from the water downstairs, Peter discovers his father’s breifcase, which is fill of strange science research and a newspaper clipping.

With a little research, and some help from Uncle Ben, Peter discovers the man in the clipping is a former co-worker of his father, Dr Connors. Of course, Peter wants to know more about his father’s work, so off he heads to steal interns name-tags at Oscorp and effectively meets the Doctor. This is where Peter also is introduced to mutated spiders that Oscorp uses to spin super-strong thread–one of which bites Peter and gives him the crazy abilities of a Spider!

I won’t spoil too much more for you, but I will let you know that there is so much more going for this Spiderman than in previous movies. Rather than being the pushover, picked on kid from the previous films, Peter is a snarky, clever and witty character as seen in more recent comics. The film not only captures great humor and whimsey, but also has a certain depth of humanity that seemed skimmed over previously. The deaths within the film are touching, and sometimes unexpected. The villain is complex and hard to hate entirely. And the suit–is damn cool.

I went into The Amazing Spiderman thinking it would be disappointing–but this storyline brings a strange animal hybrid mad scientist tidbit into the story that makes it work far better. Rarely was there a moment in this film that made me ask, “Really? Yeah Right.”

After the film and in high spirits, my boyfriend and I set out to find a good meal. As it was the fourth of July we expected crowds and probably busy eateries in full swing–so when we stumbled across a new place nearby Max and Dylan’s and Fajitas and Ritas at 2 West Street, Boston, MA, 02111 we were intrigued. On we stumbled, putting in our names with the host stand. AS you walk into The Back Deck, a replica of a back yard patio comes to mind. Chairs and tables tend to be on the lawn-chair side, fake hanging plants and painted images of men in grilling-mode adorn the walls. A bar that looks as if it belongs poolside somewhere is the primary focus as you walk in to the left. It looked wonderful. But as we stood in the doorway, watching people who had walked in after us be seated first–we began to suspect something was amiss. After fifteen minutes of waiting for a table, we were seated. My boyfriend and I had only just sat down when we realized we would not like these seats. The wooden seats and table felt unstained and rough, and I worried that before the night was out that I would have splinters in my legs. The set up of the menu was somewhat of a concern as well. At first, my boyfriend and I thought we had only been handed the drinks list–but with some fiddling found that the menu was set up in a clipboard like fashion and had to be turned upwards. It was somewhat confusing. Our waiter stumbled over to the table, looking sweaty and sarcastic.

“Sorry folks. I’ll be right with you. Have you ever waited tables before?”

The question took me off guard but I admitted I had previously worked as a hostess and bussed tables at Fenway. The boy smiled and laughed and admitted that it was a hard job and that he would be with us shortly. Well, shortly ended up being much longer than I anticipated. I should have never given him the feeling of sympathy with my answer. I did not feel sorry for him. I felt annoyed. By the time he came over to take our order we already knew what we wanted for food, and drink as of twenty minutes beforehand. He was brisk with us, and hurried off after our orders were taken.

Once the food arrived, I wasn’t any happier. I had ordered the waldorf salad (which generally shouldn’t be hard right?), but wasn’t exactly pleased with the state of the lettuce. Much of it was brown and wilty. Luckily, the apples were fresh and the dressing was tasty. But even the Walnuts had a stale sort of taste to them. Our drinks were the worst of all. Mine ended up tasting disgusting, but as our waiter was mainly absent, I couldn’t order a new one. Instead, I watched in irritation as he chit-chatted with tables that hadn’t been there nearly as long as we had, and growled under my breath when he ignored me calling him twice.

I believe that the waitstaff is the heart and soul of a restaurant. If they aren’t pleasant–the whole place falls apart for me. This waiter was a shining example of who not to hire in a restaurant. When he finally came to check on us, we just wanted the check and wanted to get out of there. It took him fifteen minutes to bring it to us, then as he put it on the table he said,

“Yeah sorry, don’t do this Fucking job.” and left. He never told us his name either.

I was aghast at his professionalism. My boyfriend happily left a shoddy tip. We will never go back there again.

So to all you waiters and waitresses out there–I know your job is difficult. I have done it. But please, dear god, be polite and courteous as possible. Or accept the fact that your tips will be cruddy.